I nodded as I toweled the sweat off the back of my neck. The contract for the fight had been finalized a day earlier, solidifying the date of the fight. I had exactly six months to train.
“He’s here. Good.” Syd looked up and rushed to the door as some guy entered.
“Rick, you made it. You didn’t have trouble finding the building, did you?”
“Not at all. Hey, Syd,” Rick greeted.
My top lip curled into a snarl when I silently watched him pull her into a hug. She willingly returned the embrace, which pissed me off even more.
“Rick, this is Luke McConnell. Luke, this is Rick Estrada, the nutritionist I was telling you about.”
“Nice to meet you, Luke. I’m a big fan.” He stuck out his hand with a stupid fucking grin on his face.
I dropped my eyes to his hand as I continued to wipe the sweat from my body, before raising my gaze to meet his. When I made no further movement after a while his hand fell to his side. He turned confused eyes onto Syd. I curled my top lip and cracked my knuckles staring at the douche-canoe in front of me.
“Strange for a nutritionist to be making house calls, ain’t it? You hard up for money or something?”
I didn’t bother waiting for his response as I strolled over to my office, leaving both of them in my wake.
“Luke, don’t be an ass,” Syd snarled from behind me and for the first time that day I cracked a smile.
Turning back to the both of them, I folded my arms and leaned against the doorframe of my office.
“I wouldn’t be me if I wasn’t.”
“Now that’s something we can agree on.”
My smile widened as I caught the wrinkle of annoyance in her face.
“Rick, unfortunately Luke isn’t all that convinced he needs a nutritionist. Please don’t take his sourpuss attitude personally.” She cut her gaze to me before turning back to Rick. “But as you and I have discussed there is some incredible research coming out recently in the field of nutrition that counters what we, in the athletic world, have come to believe about food, protein, and the building blocks of good recovery.”
Syd brushed past me, effectively pushing me out of the way of my own office to make her way inside. It was as if I watched the scene in slow motion, Syd taking the seat that belonged to me, as if it were her own. A whiff of her scent filled my nose as she did, and I couldn’t find the words to kick her ass out of my damn chair.
Rick, on the other hand, hesitated, giving me a cautious look before stepping inside my office. I leaned against my desk arms folded, legs crossed at the ankles as I stared at Rick while he set up his laptop from the chair in the corner of the room.
“Since you’re here. Might as well tell me what bullshit nutrition plan you’ve worked out already. I’m sure you’ll charge me for it anyway.”
“Ignore him,” Syd insisted. “What were you thinking, Rick?”
“As you said, Syd, I’ve done tons of research over the past two years, mostly with high performance athletes and I’ve found many of them have a great deal of success with a whole foods, plant-based diet.” Rick paused, looking toward me.
“A what?”
“Vegan,” Syd answered.
“Fuck no!” I shook my head adamantly.
She sighed, her shoulders deflating. “I knew you’d respond like this. Can you just hear him out?” She pleaded.
“I could but my answer’s still going to be the same, so what would be the point? You’re wasting your time,” I said to douche-canoe.
“Just listen to what the man has to say.”
Refolding my arms, I pierced him with a hard glare. “Talk.”
“As I’ve said, many of the athletes I’ve researched have had a great deal of success with this type of diet. I’m talking about quicker recovery times, less fatigue and in some case, less injury altogether. And I think it would benefit you immensely. I can easily design a meal plan, based on your needs. I’ll need to know information such as…”
I started to drown the douche out. Syd had to answer his questions when he asked for specifics like my height, weight, number of hours spent training per day and on and on.
